


The Stag Prince

by jenorama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenorama/pseuds/jenorama
Summary: Ginny’s family is in dire financial straits and she comes to Malfoy Manor, pushed by her family into making a match with the son of the house.  An unexpected encounter in the forest leads to something quite different.Written for the 2020 Harry and Ginny Discord Incognito Elf gift exchange!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: 2020 Hinny Discord Incognito Elf Exchange!





	The Stag Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eleyezeeaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleyezeeaye/gifts).



i. 

Ginny stared out of the carriage window at the blinding white snow, wishing that she was looking forward to this year’s Winter Gathering. The grand gathering of wizards from all over wizarding Britain had always been something she’d looked forward to, but not this year. This year, she would be paraded in front of everyone like a prize to be plucked at a county fair.

She sighed, turning her eyes away from the window as the carriage continued to bump down the road. Her sister-in-law, Hermione, smiled at her as she worked at a bit of knitting in her lap. “Try not to think about it,” she said. “I was nervous when it was my year, but everything turned out quite well.” She stopped her knitting for a moment to pat Ron’s knee. 

Her brother leaned forward, blue eyes earnest. “Yeah, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I heard Master Malfoy talking to dad the other day though the Floo.” He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “I think you’ll be joining the ranks of the illustrious Malfoys of Wiltshire before too long.”

Ginny stared back at her brother. She knew he meant well and only wanted the best for her. The trouble was no one ever asked her what she wanted or thought was best for herself. Sighing, she leaned back against the worn velvet seat of the borrowed carriage. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

ii. 

The grand gates of Malfoy Manor came into view. An enormous letter M wrought in black metal decorated it. Ginny’s heart seemed to simultaneously sink and speed up as the gate opened at the carriage’s approach. The smooth, wizard-hewn driveway was a relief after the rough, Muggle-maintained roads and Ginny rolled her shoulders, trying to work out some of the knots that had built up on the journey. 

Hermione stowed her knitting in her reticule and conjured a small mirror that floated in front of her. Ever fastidious, she took a few moments to make sure her hair was well tucked up inside of her travel bonnet before offering Ginny the use of the mirror. Reluctantly, she peered at her reflection, tucking away a few red tendrils that had come loose. _I’m so pale. They’re going to think I’m part of the snow._ She pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to get some color going, the skin of her face stinging.

After what seemed like an eternity, the carriage came to a stop in front of a very grand house, but looked to Ginny’s eyes like something cold and empty. Jumping out of the carriage, Ron served as the footman they couldn’t afford to hire along with the driver and carriage, gallantly handing down his wife. Ginny refused the hand he held out to her, gripping the handhold next to the door instead and navigating her own way down the steps while holding her skirts in her other hand.

Glad to have her feet on the ground again, Ginny took a deep breath of the cold air and looked up, meeting Draco’s gray eyes. For all of his smiles, those eyes always seemed as chilly as a clouded winter sky and she shivered. 

“Ginevra Weasley,” he said in that nasal, drawling voice of his. The sound of it never failed to make her skin crawl. He stepped forward, extending his arm out to her so that he might escort her into his father’s grand manor. “So good to see you again.”

Ginny took a deep breath, the careworn faces of her mother and father swimming in front of her and hooked her arm around his. “It’s good to see you again, too, Draco,” she said, her voice sounding distant to her ears as she allowed herself to be drawn into the manor house.

iii. 

“Ginny, you really must consider all suits this season,” Hermione said. She sounded perfectly reasonable in that way that made Ginny want to scream.

“Yeah, Ginny. You know what Mum and Dad said before we came here.” Ron stood by the fireplace in the sitting room, idly dragging his fingers through the pot of Floo powder on top of the mantel. She’d never seen so much Floo powder in her life and part of her marveled at the Malfoy’s wealth even as she raged against the very thought of joining with them for all that it would benefit her family.

She took care that her face remained impassive as she sipped her tea, determined to appear as if she was considering their words. The sight of her brother irritated her, so she shifted her eyes to look outside of the window. The cold gray skies and wild woods looked far more inviting than the stuffy sitting room and she set down her tea cup.

“I’m going out for a walk,” she said, standing up. “I need some time to think.” She ignored the look that passed between her brother and his wife as she went into the small sleeping chamber she’d been granted by the Malfoy’s steward. She put on her bonnet, last season’s hand-me-down from her French sister-in-law and fastened her cloak.

Acutely aware of Ron and Hermione’s eyes on her, she kept her steps slow and measured, even though her heart beat like that of a caged animal. As she made her way through the manor house, nodding to the occasional witch or wizard she passed in the hallway, her breath came shorter and shorter until her fingertips started to tingle. Vision swirling with darkness at the edges, she finally stepped out of the door and into the open air, finally able to breathe once more.

“And where are you going?” The sound of Draco’s voice behind her made her jump and she closed her eyes, composing her face into a smile before turning. 

“Why, master Malfoy, such a surprise!” she said, taking in his height, his pale hair, eyes and face. He wore all black, a well-known Malfoy affectation and it only served to make him look washed out. “On our journey here I found myself admiring the woods surrounding the manor and I thought to take a closer look.”

Draco smiled, looking pleased at her indirect compliment of him. “Yes, my father puts great stock in these woods. Helps keep the Muggles away,” he said, the word “Muggle” sounding like a slur in his mouth. He eyes met hers and she made herself hold his gaze. “Would you like company?”

Ginny blushed, a genuine reaction at the thought of being alone with him. “I haven’t arranged for a chaperone.” She looked down at the ground, noticing that there was a scuff on the toe of one of her shoes. 

“I see,” he drawled, causing her to look back up at him. He raised one eyebrow and nodded at her. “Enjoy your time in our forest. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yes, of course. I’m … looking forward to it,” she said, knowing it for a lie. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was eat dinner and make sparkling conversation with people she longed to get away from. Hating herself, she sketched a curtsey and turned, walking towards the waiting forest.

iv. 

The leafless branches overhead made a strange sort of lattice, letting the weak sunlight through in scattered spots. Ginny walked along the narrow pathway, carful to keep her skirts well away from the brambles on either side. The fabric of her skirts was not new and had been repaired by magic so often that it was starting to wear thin. 

Her lips thinning at the thought of her skirts, she turned her attention to her environment. She had found that she was quite good at spotting useful plants and herbs and had started making a name for herself in the magical community that surrounded Ottery St Catchpole as a person that either had what one witch or another needed or could find it. Her mother of course didn’t care for her daughter “Stamping around the woods and digging in the dirt.” 

Her father, however, delighted in her finds and they used to spend hours discussing the stranger things she came home with and the idea that they would no longer get to do that made her heart twist. She sighed and glanced down, frowning at the bushes that bordered the pathway.

_Those look like they’ve been nibbled on. I wonder if there are any deer nearby?_ Brightened by the prospect of seeing a beautiful deer on this rather dreary day, she walked on down the path, keeping an eye out for the flick of an ear or the glint of an eye.

The sun was nearing the horizon and she’d almost given up on seeing anything more than birds and squirrels when she saw it. Standing in a small clearing was a stag. Ginny stopped where she was, freezing in place so as not to spook the creature. From his antlers, she could tell that he was still quite young and her eyes darted around, looking for his harem. 

When she didn’t spot any does nearby, she frowned and looked carefully at the creature. _He looks healthy and strong. He should have the does flocking to him._ As she watched him, she noticed something else that piqued her curiosity; this one had none of the unearthly wariness she’d observed in the deer around her home. 

Like all deer, he stood very still, but unlike others, his ears didn’t constantly flick back and forth nor did his eyes dart in several directions at once. Instead, he stood in the clearing with an odd sort of resigned calm. _He almost looks sad,_ Ginny thought as she looked at him. _What could something as beautiful as him have to be sad about?_

She had the sensation that she was almost looking in a mirror as much the same thing could be said about her. _What do I have to be sad about? I’m probably going to be betrothed to one of the richest families in wizarding Britain by Christmas eve. I should be happy, shouldn’t I?_

Lost in her thoughts, she almost jumped at the sound of the stag snorting. _I see you there,_ he seemed to say. _There’s no point in hiding._ Taking the seeming hint, Ginny stepped forward, moving slowly as she left the path and entered the clearing. Her heart hammered in her chest as she realized the size of the creature as she drew closer. 

He stood perfectly still as if he were aware of her trepidation. Dark brown eyes met hers and she experienced a brief wave of double vision, green briefly superimposing over the brown. “Oh!” she said, the first sound she’d made out loud.

Startled, the stag took a step back, bobbing his head up and down as he continued to stare at her in a very un-deerlike fashion. “Sorry,” she said as she stopped in front of him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He lowered his head almost as if he were apologizing for being startled, the wickedly sharp prongs of his antlers coming very close.

“You don’t seem like other deer. Are you tame?” she asked as she studied him closer. He was reddish brown like every other deer she’d seen with a black nose and shaggy winter coat except for one spot on his forehead. Right between the creature’s eyes was a strange sort of crooked mark. It looked like an old injury that had healed. She reached out and touched it, smoothing the fur down around it. “Did you get this fighting for a doe?” 

The stag jerked away and stepped back, casting his eyes to the sun. It hovered low on the horizon, on the verge of sinking down. He snorted once and to Ginny it sounded like he was apologizing, but that he really must be going before trotting off into the woods, disappearing in seconds.

Ginny watched him go, strangely bereft in the empty clearing. She pulled her cloak closer around her and shivered. “Well. I guess I should be going, too.” 

The manor house loomed in the distance and Ginny’s steps slowed. Warm light beckoned from the windows, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to go in, dress for dinner and spend the rest of the evening trying to be fetching. She stood in the yard, ignored by all of the hustle and bustle of the house elves moving to and fro, busy with the work of keeping the manor house and those that lived there content. Struck by the work going on, she stopped an elf that was floating a rack of firewood in front of him.

“Miss?” he asked, clearly impatient but polite.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where the stables are. I would like to see the thestrals,” she said.

“If Miss can see the thestrals, they are over there.” Eager to be on his way, the house elf gestured toward a low building on the edge of the yard and hurried off.

Looking in the direction the house elf had pointed, Ginny saw a snug-looking building. They didn’t have any thestrals of their own and she’d always been curious about how they were cared for, so she lifted her skirts clear of the mud and strode over. 

Inside, it was warm and there was a smell she couldn’t quite identify until she saw one of the animals poke its head over its stall door, chewing enthusiastically on a piece of raw meat. “Oh dear,” she breathed as she watched it consume the piece of meat and dive into its feed box for another one.

“You can see them?” Transfixed by the animal, Ginny jumped in surprise at the voice behind her and spun around. A young man with unruly dark hair stood there in breeches and a shirt, well-used boots on his feet.

“Yes, I can,” she said, noticing the bucket in his hands. It was filled with meat and dripping blood out of the bottom. _This place must be a nightmare to clean!_

The young man nodded and moved past her to the next stall. He affectionately shooed away the hungry animal and tipped the dripping contents of the bucket into the feed box. He patted its neck as it snapped at the meat. “Not too fast, all right?” he murmured. He turned back to look at Ginny. “What did it for you?”

“For me? Oh, to see the thestrals, you mean?” The young man nodded and Ginny took a breath. “My brother, Fred. I saw him die in front of me.” He nodded, accepting her explanation and she narrowed her eyes, determined to get an even exchange. She raised her chin. “What about you?”

“Parents,” he said without a trace of emotion. He nodded towards the manor house. “Young Master Malfoy can’t see them. Hasn’t seen death.”

The mention of Draco brought her back to what she ought to be doing. She knew Hermione and her brother would be very cross with her for coming in late and they still had to dress for dinner. But the thestrals were so fascinating and she would have much rather spent the evening in here, chatting to the young stablehand about the care and feeding of them.

She was about to make her excuses when a frantic house elf ran into the stables. “Master Harry! Master Harry! We are having another arrival!” he squeaked, huge ears flapping as he ran in.

“A late arrival. Thank you, Beamy.” He set down the empty bucket as the house elf ran off, presumably to let the indoor house elves know. “Erm, I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Ginny Weasley.” She gave him a curtsey and was surprised to see his cheeks turn pink. “I suppose I ought to let you get on with it. I have to get to dinner.”

Harry nodded and touched his forehead in respect. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“No, I suppose I don’t.” Ginny left the snug and fascinating stable, stepping back out into the yard. As she crossed, she saw an impressive carriage drawn by four thestrals trundling up the drive. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the sigil of the Greengrass family on the door. _Well. Astoria made it after all,_ she thought as she went inside.

v. 

The late arrival of the Greengrass family had thrown the household into a tizzy and the Malfoy family sent house elves with a message that the formal welcoming dinner would be postponed until tomorrow evening instead of tonight so the Malfoy family could welcome all of their guests at the same time. 

“More like so we can all parade ourselves in front of young master Draco,” Ginny said after the house elf had left, disappearing with a small _pop_. 

“Ginny,” Ron said, chiding her with just one word. “You should really give him a chance, you know.”

“Why? Because we’re poor and he’s lowering himself to our level?” Her face flooded with heat at her brother’s darkening expression. 

“Ginny, can you help me ready the table for dinner?” Hermione asked, defusing the escalating hostility in the sitting room. Along with the message, the house elf told them that dinner would be sent up to their rooms.

Tension drained out of Ginny, leaving a lassitude in its wake and she turned away from Ron, using her wand to clear the small dining table. Hermione had been working on some documents and she made sure to keep all of the slips of parchment tidy. Hermione flicked her wand and a no nonsense tablecloth settled down, landing perfectly evenly.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Ron and Hermione were both tired from the long journey in the carriage. Without the promise of brandy and cigars with the other men or scintillating conversation with the other women, they both retired to their room soon after the dishes were cleared, leaving Ginny to her own devices.

Despite the fact that she’d taken same long carriage ride the others had, Ginny wasn’t tired in the least. After spending some time trying to read her well-thumbed copy of _Magikal Herbes and Usese Thereofe,_ she sighed and set it aside. She kept thinking of her odd encounter with the stag in the clearing that afternoon.

_I wonder if he was raised by someone close by. He didn’t seem afraid of me at all. I suppose he’s used to people? I wonder if anyone here would know? Maybe the house elves? They know more than people think they do._

Reaching a resolution, Ginny stood up and smoothed her skirts. Glancing at Ron and Hermione’s closed door, she scowled. _I’ll just tell them I was giving myself a tour of my future home if they make a fuss._ Leaving their rooms, she headed downstairs, intending to find a house elf to ask her questions to. 

As she wandered, she took in the manor house and its furnishings. Most things were quite old, but in excellent condition with none of the threadbare and much-repaired appearance of her own family’s things. True to the lady Narcissa’s reputation, the house was exquisitely decorated for the Christmas holiday with swags of greenery and bunting throughout. It seemed that every doorway had a bit of mistletoe hanging from it and she paused, briefly entertaining the thought of Draco catching her under one. 

Shaking her head at her latest flight of fancy, Ginny spied a dim light coming from a room ahead and headed towards it. She found herself in the manor’s library where a house elf was busily levitating books back up onto the shelves. 

“Hello, I was wondering if you could help me,” she said, hoping not to startle him. 

“Yes miss? How can Woody help?” he asked, adjusting the spectacles that sat at the end of his long nose.

“I was out for a walk this afternoon in the forest and I saw a stag. He wasn’t afraid of me and I was wondering if he was tame.”

The house elf looked at her for a long time and Ginny began to think that he wouldn’t say anything at all, but he finally nodded. “Miss, the stag is very special to the forest.”

“Yes, he’s quite beautiful. Was he raised by someone local?”

“We raised him, miss,” Woody said, pride evident in his voice. “The elves of the manor.”

“I see. Well, you’ve all done a very good job,” Ginny said. Her mind raced, trying to recall any other times she might have heard of house elves raising a wild animal. She came up empty. 

Woody smiled, his huge eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, miss.” After a moment, he turned his back to her and went back to his task of reshelving books. 

Dismissed, Ginny left the library and headed back up to the rooms she shared with Ron and Hermione. _A stag raised by house elves? Now I think I’ve seen everything._

vi. 

The next morning, they had a message with Hermione’s breakfast tray that the lady Narcissa Malfoy would be holding an afternoon ladies’ tea in the garden salon to welcome the Greengrass family to the gathering. 

“An opportunity to look over your rival,” Ron remarked. He missed Ginny’s sour expression as he leaned down to kiss his wife before going down to breakfast himself.

As usual, Hermione didn’t miss a thing and frowned at her once Ron was out of the room. “Ginny, you know he only wants what’s best for you.”

Ginny sighed and looked down at her feet. “I know. It’s just …” _no one asks what I want._ “I’m going to go for a walk after breakfast. Unless you need me for anything?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. But please, don’t miss the tea. You know it’s not just Draco’s eye you have to attract.”

“Of course. I have to make the entire Malfoy family fall in love with me,” Ginny said before leaving the room.

vii. 

Surrounded by the sounds and smells of the forest and away from the oppressive manor house, Ginny breathed easier. She had quite literally run into Astoria Greengrass in the breakfast room and shared a table with her, catching up on her sister’s marriage to Ernie MacMillan and other news of people they’d known at school.

Just as Ginny was excusing herself, Draco came down for breakfast, his eyes sweeping the gathering and settling on her and Astoria. He gave them what Ginny imagined he thought was a pleasant smile, but looked more like a smirk to her. She fled the room before he could come over to chat.

Putting Draco out of her mind, she focused on the forest, looking for plants and herbs she could add to her collection. _Where was that firemoss I spotted yesterday? That will get a good price at home._ She scanned the ground, paying particular attention to the shady spots by tree trunks, looking for the telltale rusty orange color. 

A clump about the size of her fist caught her eye and she bent down, using a small stick she’d broken off a bush to loosen it from the dirt. She was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t notice the stag until he snorted at her, making her jump.

Moss in hand, she scowled at him. “You surprised me! You should really know better than to go sneaking up on people.” Clearly abashed, the stag lowered his head and pawed at the loose leaves underfoot. He eyed the moss in her hand and Ginny held it out to him, her skin tingling as he delicately took it from her. 

“I can’t stay cross at you,” she said, patting him on top of his head in between his antlers as he devoured the moss. The stag snorted again and walked down the forest path, leaving Ginny to follow him. They walked together through the first, her hand resting on his back. It was chilly and she was glad for the creature’s heat next to her.

“I learned an interesting thing about you last night, you know,” she said as if she were chatting to a long time friend. The stag’s ears flicked toward her, as sign she took as interest. “I learned you were raised by the house elves at the manor.”

The stag bobbed his head, seeming to nod in agreement. Ginny paused a moment, struck by the queer notion that he evidently understood everything she was saying. _Could he be an animagus?_ “You’re not an animagus, are you?” The stag shook his head, careful to keep his antlers away from her and she took that as a no.

She became aware of the sound of water and followed the stag as he stepped off of the path. They emerged from the chill of the shady forest into a bit of sunny stream bank. The stag lowered his head, drinking deeply before lying down in the short grass. Ginny had the idea that he was inviting her to sit with him, so she used her wand to conjure a checkered blanket and sank down next to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“So yes, I asked Woody if you were tame and he told me that they’d had the raising of you.” She looked at him, watching for any reaction indicating that he’d understood her. She experienced a brief sensation of dizziness, almost as if something was trying to superimpose itself over her vision.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve been in your forest lately. I’m visiting the Malfoys. Well, I say visiting, but it’s a bit more than that.” She took a deep breath, wondering why she was launching into her life story in this clearing with this animal. “I’m here to attend the Malfoy’s Yule Ball and hopefully entice the young master to marry me,” she said all in a rush. 

The stag had been quiet with his eyes half closed, but they came wide open at the mention of the Malfoys. “What? You don’t think I’m old enough to be married? I’ve been out of Hogwarts for two years and there are those that think my time has long passed,” she said, repeating things she’d overheard the county doyennes saying when her mother was at home.

“No one has really asked me if I want to get married, however. Or even worse, pick my own husband. They expect me to just be fine with whoever picks me.” Ginny’s cheeks warmed as she spoke ad her voice grew louder. “All anyone has to say is that I’ll learn to love him. Well, what if I want to love him before I marry him?” 

The stag sneezed, bringing her back to herself and she flooded with embarrassment. She looked up at the sun and stood up, shaking the bits of grass from her skirts. “Well, I need to get back. I need to make an appearance at the lady Narcissa’s afternoon tea.” The stag heaved himself to his feet, shaking out his coat and sending loose hair flying everywhere. 

Ginny smiled at him and curtseyed. “Thank you for listening to me.” The stag snorted, seeming to say that it was really no problem. “I’m going to go now. Maybe … maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” She patted him between the eyes and he closed his eyes, reopening them when she stopped. Ginny headed away from the stream and back to the path that would take her back to the manor. She paused and looked back. The stag stood as still as he had the first time she saw him, watching as she walked away.

viii. 

As she knew it would be, Narcissa’s afternoon tea was stuffy and interminable. In addition to the guests staying at Malfoy Manor, all of the local well-to-do witches attended. The Floo in the arrival hall seemed to disgorge a new witch every few minutes. Augusta Longbottom arrived wearing the strangest hat Ginny had ever seen and she couldn’t help but stare at it. _Is that a full-sized vulture?_ she wondered as she watched Mrs Longbottom hand the hat to a waiting house elf. 

As she let the conversation swirl around her, Ginny kept an eye on Narcissa, holding court on her divan. She noticed how Narcissa was always asked what she thought about the latest in fashion from London or Paris and the flurry of agreement that followed her pronouncements.

Next to her, Hermione blew a breath out of her nose. “You don’t agree on the Lady Narcissa’s views on petticoats and underskirts?” Ginny asked, keeping her voice quiet.

“They just all bow down to her, like they don’t have any opinions of their own,” Hermione said, looking as if she were speaking into her teacup.

“Well, isn’t that what you’re asking me to do?” Ginny flushed, surprised at her boldness to speak to Hermione in such a brazen manner. She resisted the impulse to mitigate her response and smooth things over with her sister-in-law. 

When the tea was finally over, Ginny practically fled out of the house, the need for fresh air nearly overwhelming. She headed straight to the thestral barn without conscious thought and wandered around, looking for the young stablehand Harry. 

Other than the thestrals, the only other living thing she found was a house elf mending some tack. “Pardon me, but can you tell me where I might find the stablehand? Harry, I think his name is?” she asked the house elf.

“Zoody will tell Harry Miss was asking after him,” the house said, turning his attention back to his task.

Disappointed, Ginny thanked him and went back to the manor house. The sun was just beginning to set and she sighed, not looking forward to the dinner planned for the evening. She looked back towards the barn, hoping to catch sight of the dark haired young man. _I’d much rather be in the barn feeing and learning about thestrals than sipping port with the Malfoys and their friends._

Instead of learning about magical animals that not everyone could see, Ginny spent the evening at an enormous dining table, watching as Lucius dominated the other men at the table, her brother included. She wasn’t the only one with a task at this gathering; Ron had been charged with attracting additional investment for his and George’s nascent venture. 

He’d spent most of the evening dividing his attention between Mr Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy, nodding vigorously at whomever had spoken last. Her brother’s sycophantic behavior and the fact that she should be doing the same made her want to scream. She glanced down the table towards Astoria. She seemed to be in her element, sharing a jest with her neighbor, an old wizard with impressive muttonchop whiskers. 

Looking as if she were focused on her plate, she cast her eyes up towards the head of the table where Draco sat at his father’s right hand. She’d been checking on him through the dinner, trying to see if she’d captured his attention. So far, he seemed to be more focused on Astoria and she could hardly blame him. Like his mother, she was blonde, but where Narcissa was cold and regal, Astoria radiated an undeniable warmth and Ginny wasn’t surprised that Draco was attracted to her.

After dinner was finally over and the men had retired to their brandy and cigars, Ginny followed the other women into the apartment, a glass of port in her hand. She floated aimlessly from conversation to conversation, finding herself not really interested in what lady Finch-Fletchly had to say about the proper breeding and care of nifflers. 

She was learning the finer points of training young nifflers to search out a particular purity of gold when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. There had been two house elves circulating around the room, picking up glasses and freshening drinks and one of them was trying to get her attention, waving at her when no one else was looking in the house elf’s direction.

Curious, Ginny drifted away from the conversation, confident that she wouldn’t be missed. “Miss,” the house elf piped quietly, “Zoody has given Bipney a message for Miss.”

Ginny’s heart sped up at the mention of the house elf she’d met in the stables that afternoon. “Yes?”

“Zoody says that if Miss wishes to see the thestrals, now is a good time.”

_Did he ask about me?_ “I would love to see the thestrals, but I’m a little bit stuck right now,” Ginny said, striving to keep her voice low.

“Bipney can help Miss.” After looking around the room to make sure they weren’t being watched, Bipney snapped her long fingers and Ginny shivered with the sensation of cool water pouring down from the crown of her head. She wanted to check to make sure that she wasn’t soaking wet, but the house elf had already started off toward a door she hadn’t noticed.

It opened onto a servant’s stairwell and down into the kitchens. Bipney led her through the steaming chaos to the back door and out into the yard. Another snap of her fingers and Ginny was enveloped by a brief warmth before the chill of the winter night overtook it. She conjured a shawl to go over her dinner clothes and thanked the house elf.

“Harry is a friend to all house elves,” she said before turning to go back into the house.

Puzzling over the odd statement, Ginny lifted her skirts and stepped towards the stables. A giddiness she hadn’t felt in a long time nearly overtook her and she slowed her steps, mindful that she was going to meet a strange man without a chaperone or telling anyone. If she was to be found out, her reputation would be ruined. _But since when did I care about my reputation?_

She entered the stables, pausing for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the low light. Always mindful of fire, the only light came from a few lanterns. “Hello?” she called, careful to not be to loud lest she spook the sleeping thestrals.

Soft steps alerted her to Harry’s presence and he came around a corner, wiping his hands on a bit of rag. He grinned when he saw her and she grinned back, a shiver deep in her belly. “You came,” he said.

“I had some help to get away.” The low lantern light lent a warm golden tone to his skin, making him look like the complete opposite of the cool blond Draco. “So, I understand you can show me the thestrals.”

“Of course. Right this way.” Ginny followed Harry deeper into the stables the warmth of the sleeping animals surrounding her. She was very glad that it wasn’t feeding time and that the stalls seemed to be very well cleaned when they stopped in front of the largest thestral she’d ever seen. “This one is Eclipse. Lord Malfoy’s pride and joy.”

He held out his hand and the thestral nuzzled it, clearly looking for a treat. After a few moments of nuzzling with no treat, it lost interest and turned away. “What does Lord Malfoy use Eclipse for? He looks too big for a carriage.” Ginny eyed the folded wings, trying to gauge how far they would span at full extension.

“He rides him. When he wants to make an impression on someone, that is.” He looked at her speculatively. “Have you ridden one?”

“Me? Oh no. My family can barely afford to feed ourselves, let alone a creature like this,” Ginny said, immediately realizing she’d just confessed how poor her family were to a stranger. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth curled up in a smile and he shook his head. “Look who you’re talking to,” he said, motioning to his clothes that looked like they’d been handed down a few times before coming to him. 

“Yes, well. The house elf that gave me your message, Bipney, mentioned that you were a friend to the house elves. Do you know that another house elf told me that they raised that stag in the forest? I’m sure you’ve seen him,” Ginny said in an effort to turn the conversation away from their mutual poverty. 

“Who told you that?” Harry asked, his dark brows coming down over what Ginny realized were green eyes. 

“It was … we were in the library. Woody?” she said, now worried that she’d said something to get the friendly elf in trouble. “I asked about him. It’s my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s true, they did raise him. And me, after my parents died. We were raised together, you could say.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the stable door. “They got me my position here.”

“Do the Malfoys treat you well?” she asked. She really wanted to know what had happened to his parents that left him in the care of the house elves, but wasn’t sure that he would exactly welcome that sort of question.

Harry shrugged. “Well enough. I’m fed, clothed and given work to do.” He stood up straight. “Follow me. I’ll show you something special.”

Intrigued, Ginny walked behind him, following him to the warmest part of the stables. She looked over the stall door he indicated, breathing out short Oh! of delight. In the stall was a mother and baby thestral. “He was born last week,” Harry said as the young thestral made inquisitive chirping sounds at the sight of them.

“His wings look so tiny in comparison,” Ginny said, marveling at the sleek head and depthless black eyes. 

“Their wings don’t really start to grow until they’re a few months old. Then they’ll start testing them.” Harry was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Old Lucius intends to give this one to Draco.”

“He does? But you said Draco couldn’t see them.”

Harry pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Lucius will fix that,” he said, sending a chill down her spine. “Probably with one of the house elves.”

Horrified, Ginny gasped. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

“I’ll be gone by then.” He sighed, hands in his pockets. “I daresay that’s what they’re waiting for.”

Ginny’s mind reeled. “Gone? Where? Are you going into service somewhere else? Why—” Harry held up his hand, shushing her.

“I think it’s time you get back. Come on.” Questions unanswered, Ginny followed him out of the cozy stables and back out into the chilly yard. 

“Thank you for showing me more of the thestrals,” she said, shyness overtaking her. “If … if you’re looking for a new situation, I might be able to help. My brothers are starting a new venture.”

“Thank you, Miss Weasley. I’ll be all right.” He tugged on the dark hair that covered his forehead. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said, watching him walk back to the stables.

ix. 

The morning of the Christmas Eve, Ginny woke with an energy she hadn’t felt since arriving at Malfoy Manor. She’d turned over the conversation with Harry before finally falling asleep and decided that she’d find one of the house elves and see if she could find out what Harry meant by saying he’d be gone soon.

_I’ll see if I can find that Bipney or maybe Woody. I’m sure I can get one of them to tell me._ She dressed quickly in her day dress, hoping to avoid Ron in the sitting room before heading down to breakfast. _Maybe Bipney will be helping at breakfast._

Luck wasn’t with her, however and there were no house elf helpers at breakfast. When she asked where they all were, she was told that all of the house elves were busy preparing for the ball that night. 

_Maybe not all of them,_ she thought and headed off in search of one, trying to look like she was merely curious about the manor house rather than looking for a house elf to interrogate. Instead of the desired house elf, she found Draco in the library.

“Well, what are you doing wandering around instead of getting ready for the ball?” he asked, closing the book he’d been reading.

“I just wanted to look around at the holiday decorations. They’re so beautiful. Your mother has excellent taste,” Ginny said, landing upon flattery as a way to diminish suspicion. 

“Yes, she does,” he agreed, a pleased smile on his pale face. “I’m glad you think so, too.”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” she asked, flush with boldness. “I need some assistance with my ballgown. Can you send a house elf to attend me?”

Draco nodded. “I’ll ask Mother to send you one.”

“Thank you.” Ginny sketched a brief curtsey and left the library, glad to be out of his company. _Maybe I’ll see if I can find the stag again._ She went toward her room to get her bonnet and wrap, but was waylaid by an overly excited Astoria who wanted to chat with her about the ball, the other guests and Draco. 

By the time she’d wrested herself free, Hermione had found her and hounded her up to their rooms to start getting ready for the ball. Ginny looked out of one of the windows, noting the sun already hovering on the horizon. _Where did the day go?_

When she arrived back to their rooms, Ginny’s heart lept. Waiting in the sitting room for them was the house elf she’d wanted to see all day. “Misses, Lady Narcissa has asked Bipney to help you get ready for tonight’s ball,” she squeaked. 

“Oh, how very kind of her. We will have to thank her,” Hermione said, smiling at the house elf. “I’ve already unpacked my gown, but Ginny might need help with hers.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I haven’t done a thing with it and it’s still packed in my trunk. I would be so grateful for your help.” Ginny opened her door, ushering Bipney inside and closing the door.

Bipney opened the traveling trunk and took out the dress, snapping her fingers to make it float in the air in front of her. She circled it, looking at it critically. It was a beautiful deep plum silk that complimented Ginny’s skin and hair perfectly for all that it was second hand. Even so, she had winced at the cost, knowing that it was money they could ill afford.

Waving her hand, Bipney smoothed out all of the wrinkles from being packed in the trunk and sent it to the wardrobe where it hung itself. “Does Miss need help with her hair? Bipney knows many styles.”

Ginny touched her hair. She hadn’t really given it any thought and the styling spells she knew tended more to the practical than the fashionable. She sat down in the chair in front of the little vanity and Bipney got to work, efficiently taking her hair down from her simple daytime style.

As she worked, Ginny cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for your help last night. I … enjoyed seeing the thestrals.”

“Bipney is happy to help.” The house elf had Ginny’s long red hair well in hand, expertly brushing it to a high shine. 

“I wanted to ask you a question. Last night, when I was seeing the thetrals, Harry said that he would be leaving soon. Is he going into service somewhere else?”

Bipney paused in her brushing and then continued. “I will be Sir’s twenty-first Christmas,” she said as if that explained everything.

Ginny frowned, looking at the house elf in the mirror. “Does he have to leave? Can’t he just stay on? Is there an age rule?”

“Age rule, yes.” She began to braid the thick mass, hand deft and quick. 

“But why? What does it matter that this will be his twenty-first Christmas?” As she spoke, she saw Bipney begin to tremble. 

“It is the rule. He has twenty-one Christmases and then he must go.” The house elf’s hands slowed as her trembling increased. She was clearly in distress and Ginny decided against further questions, glad to see Bipney recover her composure.

Soon, Ginny’s hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate confection of braids and curls, held together by strategically placed sticking spells. Ginny turned her head from side to side, admiring the work. “Bipney, you’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you so much.”

Bipney nodded, full of pride in her workmanship. “Does Miss need help getting dressed?”

“No, I can manage, thank you.” She turned in the chair to face her, eye to eye and took her hands. “Please, if you can, tell Harry … tell Harry that I don’t want him to go away. That I wish he would stay.”

Bipney stared at her, huge round eyes unblinking for several heart beats before she finally nodded. “I will tell Sir of Miss’s wish,” she said, her voice solemn and grave.

“Thank you.” Bipney left, leaving Ginny alone with her thoughts. _What was it about the questions that made her shake so? Is she under some sort of compulsion?_ Shaking her head, she rose and continued getting ready for the ball.

x. 

Ginny held her fan in one hand, dance card dangling from her wrist as she watched the couples swirling on the dance floor. The cream of wizarding society were represented here, all dressed in dazzling gowns and dignified dress robes. She spotted a few former Hogwarts classmates dancing together, all of them vying to make a match. 

Ron and Hermione swanned past, her brother expertly guiding his wife through the crowded dance floor. Her heart warmed to see that they only had eyes for each other. _That’s what I want. I want someone to look at me like that one day._

The song ended and Ginny consulted her dance card to see who her next partner would be. _Dean Thomas. Oh, it’ll be good to see him again._ She had fond memories of the sensitive young Gryffindor house mate and looked forward to a bit of catching up with him. She was just about to fold her dance card shut when her eye fell on another name, or rather initials and she frowned. _HJP?_ She searched her memory for a wizard with those initials, but couldn’t think of one. _Oh, I hope he’s not foreign. Or someone playing a joke._ Conspicuously absent was Draco. He was dancing exclusively with Astoria tonight, something everyone had noticed.

The band started up again and she sighed, mentally gearing up for conversation as she saw Dean approach. He took her hand and gave her a courtly bow. “Miss Weasley. May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

Ginny curtseyed in return. “Mr Thomas. You may.” His easy, familiar smile put her at ease and before she knew it, she was genuinely enjoying herself on the dance floor. They chatted as they danced, Dean filling her in on the news of their former Gryffindor classmates. She learned that Seamus had found himself an Irish witch and was doing well in Cork. Lavender Brown was now Lavender Wagner and living in an all magical community near Bremerton.

“You just know all of the news! But how have you been? Are you still with the import-export firm?” 

“Yes, I am. I’m going to India after the new year,” Dean said, dark eyes dancing with excitement.

“India? That sounds amazing. I would love to go to India. I’ve read that they have the most wondrous magical plants there.” 

The continued to chat about the contracts he would be assisting with in India and the things he hoped to see there until the music ended. Another bow and a curtsey, and they both went in search of their next partners. Her dance card showed that the mysterious HJP was up next and she looked around, hoping to figure out who he might be.

Before the mystery dance partner could approach, however, Lucius ascended the dais the musicians were on. He pointed his wand at his throat, amplifying his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to welcome you to our annual Christmas Eve ball. Seeing you all enjoying yourselves so gives me great pleasure.” 

He surveyed the crowd, waiting until he was certain that all eyes were on him and flicked a strand of long blond hair over his shoulder. He extended his hand and Narcissa stepped up next to him, her blonde perfection matching his. “My lovely wife Narcissa and I have the distinct pleasure of announcing the engagment of our son Draco to Astoria Greengrass.”

Happy applause broke out of the crowd as Draco and Astoria joined Lucius and Narcissa on the dais, waving to the crowd. Ginny looked at the group, relieved that she wasn’t part of it. The Malfoys and Astoria stepped down and were swiftly absorbed by well wishers, the room buzzing with conversation. She went back to searching for who HJP could be, looking for someone who might be looking at her, but didn’t see anyone. 

Finally, the chatter died down and Lucius motioned for the band to pick up their instruments once more. The center of the dance floor cleared, leaving Draco and Astoria standing in the middle. The music started and they swept off into the dance, their movements perfectly matched. Despite her dislike for Draco and his family, Ginny was captivated by the pair. _I hope Astoria is able to bring some happiness to this house._

The other guests began to join in the dance with the newly-engaged couple and Ginny had just about given up on finding out about Mr HJP when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and looked up, seeing Harry the stableboy standing in front of her. He smiled at her as he took her hand and bowed. “Miss Weasley. May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

Ginny could only stare at him. There was no trace of the stableboy in front of her now. Gone were the clothes of dubious origin and vintage. Instead he wore black dress robes in the latest fashion that fit him perfectly. His unruly mop of black hair was no longer hanging down over his eyes, letting her finally see their true brilliant green color. “I … Harry?” she finally managed to splutter.

“Yes. Come on.” Not quite sure if her feet were operating properly, she followed him out, the music a dim sound in her ears. _This can’t be real, this can’t be him._ The heat of his hands through her gloves spoke the truth, though and she looked up at him again, trusting him to lead her through the steps of the dance.

As they moved through the steps, Ginny came back to herself. “How are you here?”

“I had a bit of help,” he said, inclining his head to one of the house elves holding a serving tray. The house elf watched them, big blue eyes shining.

The house elf reminded Ginny of her earlier conversation with Bipney and her increasing distress as she asked questions about Harry. “What did you mean that you would be gone? I tried to ask Bipney, but she stared to have some … difficulty in answering me.”

Harry sighed. “It’s … complicated. The house elves are under a geas and can’t speak of it.”

“She said that this would be your twenty-first Christmas and then you’d be gone. What did she mean?” Panic rose in her and she squeezed his hands hard in hers.

“Shh, just dance with me, all right?”

“But—”

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice barely above the sound of the music. Resolving to get answers out of him later, she danced. In his arms, she felt lighter than air and like she could dance all night. She began to think of her dance card and how she could gracefully decline her other partners to spend the rest of the evening dancing with Harry. 

All too soon the music came to an end and they had to stop. Her heart pounding in her chest, she opened her mouth to ask him again about the significance of twenty one Christmases was. Before she could, a wave of dizziness came over her, threatening to send her tumbling to the floor. Her knees turned to water and if it hadn’t been for Harry holding her, she would have fallen.

“Are you ill?” he asked, frowning in concern.

“I …” She looked back up at him and then she knew. Her gut twisted in a visceral reaction and she nearly bent double. For a split second, she wasn’t in a crowded ballroom with a tall young man but in a fresh forest, spilling her heart out to a stag by a stream. “It’s you,” she whispered, the scent of crushed pine needles sharp in her nose. “Are you an animagus?”

“I—no. I’m under a curse. I am forced to be a stag during the day and can only be a man at night,” he said. His voice became low and urgent. “If the curse is not broken by my twenty-first Christmas, I will stay a stag forever.”

“How? How do you break the curse?”

“I don’t know! Only the house elves know and they cannot say because of the geas!” Other guests were starting to give them curious looks and Ginny allowed herself to be drawn off to the side.

“There’s one. Let’s ask her!” She motioned to the house elf with her fan. “Pardon me! Can I—” the house elf turned around and walked in the opposite direction. “She walked away!”

“The geas is painful and can kill them.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Ginny, I have accepted my fate. I just wanted one night to dance with you.” 

She put her hand against his cheek, the warmth of his skin radiating through her satin gloves. “I haven’t accepted. I just found you. I don’t want to lose you already.” Emotion surged through her and she realized that even though she was surrounded by the cream of wizarding society and her reputation would likely be ruined for life, she wanted to do nothing more than kiss him.

He opened his mouth to speak and it was her turn to shush him as she went up on her tiptoes and drew his face down to hers, meeting his lips in a sweet, perfect kiss. She was prepared for the feeling of his warm lips on hers, the sharp intake of breath through his nose from the surprise and the quiver in her belly.

She was not prepared for what sounded like a gong going off inside of her head or the chill wind that blew through the ballroom, guttering the candles. They broke apart and Ginny saw a lightning bolt scar shining silver on his forehead, exactly the same as she had seen on the stag. 

She heard the rumble of running feet and turned to see what might have been every house elf on the grounds running towards them. “Harry Potter!” they shouted. “Harry Potter is returned!”


End file.
